


Stay With Me

by writeturnlove



Category: Bucky Barnes - Fandom, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Winter Soldier - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Reader Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 13:50:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19319473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeturnlove/pseuds/writeturnlove
Summary: Your friend, James Buchanan Barnes, always comes over to your place to hang out with all of your mutual friends. Then one night, Bucky comes over alone and he wants to do a little more than just hang out. The late night visits quickly turn into something unexpected and you soon realize your world has turned upside down...in more ways than one.





	Stay With Me

Stay With Me  
By V.C. Turner

It started about a month ago. A knock sounded on my door and I opened it after I looked through the peephole. Bucky Barnes stood on my doorstep, donning his red Henley shirt and a pair of black sweatpants. He looked like he had something on his mind that he wanted to discuss. I waved him inside. He’s a friend and I usually did my best to help him out when I could. Once he walked inside, he wrapped his right hand around mine and led me to the bedroom.   
Since he often had nightmares, I figured he just wanted someone to cuddle with; to keep him company so he could fight the demons of his past as they assaulted him in his sleep. I get that. I’m nice and plump. I’ve been called a cute little Teddy Bear because of that fact.   
That first night, he stripped down to his boxers and a t-shirt, then he slipped between the covers of my bed as if he belonged there. I slid in bed and scooted down on my pillow. I didn’t expect him to pull me into his arms, but he did. He gave me a light squeeze and held onto me...like a teddy bear. After several minutes, I felt his breathing slow and a soft snore exited his throat. I patted his forearm and snuggled into his embrace before I fell asleep.   
I woke up first that following morning. I didn’t know what he wanted, but had he wanted to talk, he would have done so. I turned over and watched him sleep for another hour. Once he began stirring, I slipped out of bed and started to make breakfast. I made enough for two, but it wasn’t necessary.   
I heard shuffling in the bedroom. Once I looked up, he was walking to the door. He gave me a half smile, a quick nod, and left. I swallowed hard and continued making a meal that I would eventually eat alone.   
I went to work, not knowing what, if anything to say to him about the previous night. I made sure to carefully study my computer screen when he passed by my office and stopped in to say hello.  
“Hey, y/n,” he said in his usual tone.   
“Hey, Buck,” I said back.  
I looked into his eyes and saw nothing different than any other morning. He behaved as though him coming to bed and sleeping over at my place was something normal. It wasn’t. We were just friends. He never came over alone… until the night he did.   
“What’s up?” he asked, taking a bite of a donut.  
“I’m just trying to decipher some of the ledgers you guys found at the last Hydra base. Secretary Ross wants an update from all the analysts by the end of the week,” I told him, briefly scanning his features for anything that resembled a deeper familiarity.  
Nothing.  
“We’re getting ready for the next operation, running drills in the simulator,” Bucky explained.   
I nodded my head and gave him a half smile.   
“You guys will kick ass,” I said.  
Sam and Steve walked by in the hallway, glancing in before continuing on their way. Bucky acknowledged them and said “Later” to me before heading back out the door.   
Nothing.  
I ignored the twist in my stomach. It was just cuddling anyway. Why would he want anything more than a comfy, human pillow? I guess my brown-skinned, thick ass fit the bill last night, but it was a one time thing, probably done out of desperation.  
I continued my work for the rest of the day, doing research and analysis and answering questions of people in the agency that needed my expertise. The day ended without incident. I stopped by and grabbed a chef salad from the deli on the way home. I changed into a long tank top, propped up my feet, ate my dinner, and fell asleep on the couch. It was a typical night for me.  
The knock at my door scared the shit out of me. I rubbed my eyes and looked at the clock, which read 2:05 a.m. With my heart pounding in my chest, I looked and saw it was James Buchanan Barnes at my door again. I opened it. He walked inside, his right arm brushing against my chest as he passed me.  
I was about to ask him what was going on when he looked me up and down. I’d forgotten that all I was wearing was a tank top. My panties, thighs, and everything out on display because I didn’t expect anyone else would see it. He swallowed, then reached for my hand and for some reason I gave it to him.   
Bucky led me back to the bedroom again. He stripped off his t-shirt and jeans and crawled into bed. I followed the same routine as the night before. I slid in bed next to him, facing away from the super soldier as I covered myself up with the sheets and comforter.   
I was about to say “goodnight,” to him when I felt his hand run from my shoulder, along my side, down to my hips and then eventually my thighs. It felt somewhere between a caress and a massage. I tried to ignore the fire that built up in my core. He didn’t want me like that. He would never want me like that. He was just being friendly, I told myself. He’d stop soon.  
But he didn’t stop.   
His fingers continued to trace paths along my bare skin. His pace was leisurely - as if it had no purpose other than to relax me, so that’s what I did. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the sensation of this beautiful, brooding man touching me.   
Bucky scooted closer, his hot breath tickling the hair at the base of my neck. His lips brushed my right shoulder and I trembled. It didn’t feel like a kiss; more like incidental contact as his caress transitioned from my side to the front of my thighs. My breathing picked up as the circles his hand was making inched closer to my core.   
His hand slid up to my stomach and I winced a little knowing that he was touching the rolls of fat I’d tried so hard to diminish. When his hand slipped beneath my tank top, I sucked in a quick breath and he stopped for a moment. He started to pull his hand away, but for some reason, I placed mine on top of his. He moved more cautiously after that, allowing his fingers to make their way to the valley between my breasts.   
I didn’t want to turn over. I didn’t want to face him. I didn’t know what he wanted from me, but I was willing to surrender it just to have this precious, secret moment with him. Bucky cupped my right breast in his hand. He exhaled hard, his nose pressing between my shoulder blades as he began to knead my flesh. His pace quickened a bit as he placed my turgid bud between his thumb and forefinger. I let out a moan. I couldn’t help it. It felt good to be touched that way, especially by him. He continued to lightly flick the nub, making me moan into the pillow. Then he started caressing my left breast, giving it the same expert attention. I tried to hold still. I didn’t understand why he was plucking my sexual strings like a guitar. My breathing came out in pants and soon my mouth went dry. His hand made its way down my stomach again, skimming the outside of my panties, which were now damp from his touches.   
Bucky tugged on the thin fabric down and I slid my legs out of them. He gently touched the small patch of hair at the top of my sex before sliding a finger between my slick folds. I heard him make a guttural sound with his throat, but he never said a word. Instead, he continued to make gentle circles around my clit, driving me to the point of insanity. I bit into the pillow to keep from moaning so loud that the neighbors complained.   
A part of me didn’t want it to feel good; I didn’t want his touch to make me want him even more than I already did. The truth was that my body, my mind, and my heart always wanted Bucky Barnes and I would take him any way I could get him - even if the only person it meant anything to...was me.   
I closed my eyes, losing myself in the sensations that he gave me. The arousal began to coil up in my core and I silently prayed he would finally speed up and send me over the edge so I could finally come back to earth. Then he slowly removed his fingers and I remember moaning my protest. He scooted closer to me. Only then did I realize that at some point, he’d removed his boxers.   
A hot, long, and thick erection pressed against the back of my thighs seeking entry into my warmth. He lifted my right leg, his fingers caressing the skin on my inner thigh until he made his way back to my core, slipping a finger deep inside me and brushing against my g-spot.   
“Fuck,” I cried out.  
At that moment, I felt his teeth gently nip at my shoulder just before he placed the tip of his cock at my entrance. He rubbed the head up and down my slit until I couldn’t take it any longer. I was too far gone. I backed into him, letting only the head inside my channel. I felt his teeth graze my neck and both of us shook at the sensation. My eyes closed and I waited for what felt like several minutes for him to move again.  
“If you’re waiting for my permission, I’m giving it to you,” I whispered.   
The second the words left my mouth, Bucky slipped inside of me as he exhaled a shaky breath that tickled the all the way down my spine. I shuddered as he inched deeper inside my eager channel, stretching me wide and filling me up. I buried my head in the pillow the second he began moving.  
He held onto my thigh, holding it up so he could thrust as deep as possible. I rode the waves of passion as best I could, biting my lip to keep from moaning. I swore. I writhed. I arched into him. His pace remained steady, deep, and torturous. His metal hand pounded against the headboard with each thrust as the fingers of his right hand pressed into the flesh of my thigh.   
Bucky seemed to want to torment both of us with each stroke; his pace slowing a little as he pulled me closer to his body. I could feel his sweat dampen my back as his slick abs pressed against my skin. I could hear the huffs of breath he made as he tried to hold on as long as possible. My release started to build quickly, my channel began to spasm, clutch, and pull at his stiff and pulsing manhood; seeking the orgasm I so desperately needed.   
I felt myself coming, so I grabbed onto the side of the mattress and held on as tightly as I could. I thought I was prepared. I wasn’t. My orgasm slammed against me, stealing the air from my lungs, the sight from my eyes, and the sound from my ears. I don’t remember all of the words I said, but it was a glorious smattering of moans, swears, and utterances of gratitude to a God in front of whom I knew I was sinning.   
Bucky’s release came soon after, his seed shooting into me like a hot punctuation mark onto a forbidden moment. He shuddered behind me, placing a small bite on the back of my neck as he came, swearing under his breath. Moments later he stilled, breathing heavily. He then rolled away from me. I closed my eyes, a tear falling down my cheek in a moment of shame that I felt I shared with him. He returned with a couple of towels and he cleaned us both up.   
No words were exchanged.   
When he was finished, he tossed the towels in the clothes hamper in the corner, then slid back into bed behind me. I couldn’t look at him, but I felt his arm wrap around me again. He held me tight and minutes later, I heard his soft snoring on the pillow behind me. Confusion swelled around me rather than comfort. I turned to a tear stained pillow and fell into a restless sleep.  
Morning broke over the horizon and light began to pour into the room. I didn’t look over my shoulder for him. Instead, I glanced at the clock and noted that I needed to get ready for work. The absence of his arm around my waist reminded me that the night before meant nothing other than a sexual release for both of us. I confirmed my suspicion by turning around to an empty bed.   
I sucked it up like usual. Men are like that. They get what they want and move on. I just never expected a friend of mine would do that.  
“Fuck you,” I said to no one, tossing the sheet that covered me back onto the bed.   
I swallowed my pride and got ready for work.  
Secretary Ross had a series of reports he wanted me to review and correct, so I stayed busy for most of the day. Deep in a cup of coffee and a narrative about upcoming tactical plans, I was startled by a knock on my door. I looked up without emotionally preparing myself.   
Bucky stood in my doorway, his clothes dirty and disheveled from what I assumed was another round of trials in the simulator. I gathered the courage to look him in the eyes. He looked back and my heart stilled for a moment.   
“Hey,” I blurted out.  
“Hey, y/n,” he said, his voice soft. Too bad he didn’t use it on me the night before.   
“So Sergeant, what are you up to today?” I asked, not really caring about his answer, but wanting to fill the space between us with something other than silence.   
He gave me a bashful smile and answered.  
“Ducking and dodging bullets,” he answered, “Sam likes to shoot at me as target practice.”   
I chuckled a little.   
“It’s a good workout, I guess,” I muttered, looking back at my computer screen. I refused to fall under his spell again.   
He waited a few moments before saying anything.  
“Well, some workouts are a lot more fun, though. Don’t you think?” he asked.  
I looked up at him, my eyes probably wide in surprise.   
Bucky gave me a smile and a quick wink before pushing off of the doorframe and leaving me hot in his absence. His obvious reference to the night before left me a bit shocked, but longing for a repeat.   
Don’t wish for things you can’t handle.   
That used to be my motto. I broke it. For the next several nights, Bucky showed up at around midnight. We didn’t talk. He simply took my hand and led me into the bedroom. Most nights, he got in bed wearing his t-shirt and boxers on only to remove them within minutes of me getting in bed with him. Other times, I’d turn around and he stood there naked, looking me up and down. My guess is that he was trying to figure out how many ways he could twist my body like a pretzel and fuck me until I screamed his name over and over.   
Which I did. Over and Over.   
He always left me shaking, moaning, screaming, and clutching something: the pillow, the mattress, his hair. I lost track of the number of positions we tried. I think we even created a few new ones. There were times when Bucky didn’t bother taking me to the bedroom first. Once, I wore this babydoll nightgown with nothing underneath and next thing I knew, my left leg was wrapped around his hip as he pounded into me while I was pressed against the wall by the front door. Another night, he decided that we needed to christen the kitchen, so he bent me over showed me that I could have three back-to-back orgasms while leaning over a faux marble countertop.   
My body never refused him. My mind took a vacation. My heart, wounded, could only consider one disappointing fact: in all those moments of sex, there was no real intimacy.   
He never even kissed me...on the lips...anywhere.  
We were just two rabbits fucking the hell out of each other in secret.   
For a while, I thought I was okay with it, but I wasn’t and it needed to stop.   
I went to work sore on a crisp Friday morning. Rather than business attire, we were allowed to wear jeans that day, so I did. I donned a pair of dark blue jeans that flattered my curves and a white v-neck polo top. I stayed buried in paperwork and meetings, trying to ignore the task of telling Bucky that he couldn’t come back that night because I didn’t want to see him. I planned to tell him that it needed to end; I was tired of being used for his fuck buddy even though we both enjoyed it.   
Around mid-day, I discovered that Mother Nature decided to pay me a visit. I didn’t expect my period for a few days, but it showed up and added another layer of stress to my day. Since I was always prepared, I took care of my needs and returned to my office; my mood turning gray like the clouds gathering in the sky.  
I prepared a speech in my head, waiting for him to knock on my door like he always did. But Bucky never showed up. I later learned that the team had to investigate a threat in Washington, D.C. Partly relieved, I finished my day and headed home.  
Rain poured down hard and I thankfully made it home. I pulled my naturally curly hair back in a ponytail and made dinner for myself. After picking away at my food, I slipped on a pair of yoga pants and a knit top with the words “boyfriend tee” written across the front of it. I chuckled at the irony. I didn’t have a boyfriend, but sometimes wearing the oversized shirt allowed me to pretend I did.  
I headed to bed at 1 a.m. when I heard a knock on my door. I stopped breathing. I checked the peephole and Bucky stood there, his dark hair damp from the rain. He wore a blue button down shirt and a pair of jeans. I opened the door, my speech already prepared to lay out for him. He didn’t need to stay long.   
Bucky began to lead me to the bedroom, but I tugged my hand away from him.  
“I can’t have sex with you tonight, Bucky,” I said, “I have my period.”  
He looked me up and down, but I couldn’t read his expression at all. It wasn’t blank, but it was an expression I’d never seen before. I viewed it as disappointment and began to walk down the hallway.  
“Where are you going?” he asked.  
“Since that’s all you want from me and I can’t give it to you tonight, you don’t have to stay here and keep me company. I’ll be fine,” I told him, sadness lacing my voice.   
It hurt to say it to him, but the truth often hurts.   
He reached for my hand and turned me around, looking in my eyes. It was only then that I noticed that they were shimmering from the tears he hadn’t yet shed. I’d never seen him cry. To be honest, I didn’t think he was capable of such things.  
“We...we don’t need to do anything. I still want to stay with you if that’s okay,” he whispered.  
I walked away from him again and let him to the spare bedroom. I opened the door and walked inside. Silently, he followed me.  
“You can stay in this room tonight. It’s raining too hard for you to be out in all of that. You’d wreck your bike,” I explained.  
“Why wouldn’t I sleep with you?” Bucky asked, his hand tracing a path down my arm.  
I pulled back.  
“We can’t have sex - any kind of sex. Not tonight. We probably shouldn’t do it again. I know that’s why you want back in my bed,” I explained.   
“That’s not all I want from you,” he said, softly.  
“But that’s all we do! I get it: I’m convenient. But, Bucky, we’re not an ‘us.’ We’re not friends with benefits. We’re not dating. We’re just fucking. You can’t even bring yourself to kiss me, and I’m guessing that’s because I disgust you,” I said, almost spitting the revelation out at him. I wanted him to hurt, but I can’t blame him. I allowed him in my bed. That didn’t mean he wanted my heart.   
Bucky appeared as if a tractor trailer hit him in the gut. He turned away from me and ran his fingers through his hair. I could hear his breathing pick up as he paced away from me. He then turned around to face me again.  
“You think you disgust me? That I’m not attracted to you?” he asked.  
“Yes, that’s what I think...so just go ahead and admit it, because if you can’t look me in the eye when you fuck me, the least you could do is have the balls to look me in the eye when you reject me!” I yelled at him.  
Bucky bit his lip. He began to pace again, as if he were at war with himself more than he was arguing with me.  
“Reject you? You believe I’m that kind of asshole?” asked Bucky, taking a few steps toward me.  
“Look, just go ahead and say that whatever this is, it’s just convenient, safe sex for you and a favor to the fat black girl downstairs,” I said through tears.  
Bucky walked up to me. He pulled me to his chest and rubbed my back as I wept.  
“Please don’t think that about me. I don’t want you to believe that I’m using you or patronizing you,” he said.  
I shook in his arms, but found the words to speak.  
“I believe that a man shows who he is, one way or another. If he doesn’t acknowledge what you are to him in public or to his friends, then he’s ashamed of you. If he doesn’t bother looking you in the eyes when he touches you- or has sex with you, it’s because he wishes you were someone else; or he’s not attracted to you. If a man doesn’t even bother to kiss you, he doesn’t want your heart. He doesn’t want you. You mean nothing to him and ... I mean nothing to you.”  
He stepped back as if I’d pushed him.  
“Don’t say that! It’s bullshit!”  
“I said it because it is true! You don’t do any of those things: look at me, acknowledge me, .... kiss me,” I said, weeping so hard I couldn’t keep up with wiping away the steadily falling tears.   
I started for the door, and he stepped in front of it.  
“Dammit Y/N, Wait. Don’t walk away,” he pleaded.   
I didn’t look at him.  
“Go to bed, Buck. I don’t want your fucking pity,” I said as I stepped around him.   
A gust of wind nearly knocked me over as he approached. His metal hand slammed against the wooden door so hard I thought it would shatter to pieces.   
Bucky spun me around and pinned me to the door with his gaze. His blue eyes bore into me, stealing my breath away. I tried to find my words, but they became lost somewhere in the confusion of my brain.  
Bucky glanced down at my mouth then back into my eyes. He rubbed the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip, then gently grazed the top.  
“Telling someone about us would force me to admit that I’m not good enough for you. I don’t look at you when we have sex because that’s all I told myself I could give you- just sex. I don’t kiss you because I remember how you said that kissing is more intimate than sex for you. It’s so personal that you don’t want to waste it on men who don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve you,” he blurted out.  
“Why?” I asked in a voice barely above a whisper.  
Bucky placed his forehead to mine as his hair tickled my face.  
“I’m not a good man, y/n. I’m trying to be. Every time I take down a Hydra base, I feel like I’m getting closer to that. It doesn’t erase what I did,” he said.  
“You are a good man. Bad men don’t punish themselves for their past and they don’t try to make things right,” I reasoned.  
Bucky leaned forward, his cheek pressing against mine. His lips brushed against my ear as he spoke.  
“Good men don’t break the heart of the woman they love,” he added.  
“You love me?” I asked, failing to fight back tears.  
“Yeah,” Bucky muttered.  
I placed my hands on his waist, mostly to keep them from shaking so much.  
“Bad men don’t know anything about love,” I asserted, “Good men do.”  
Bucky pressed his body against mine as his hands settled on my hips. I felt his manhood twitch at the contact.  
“Does a good man fantasize of all the ways he can make you scream his name? Does a good man want to rip off that nice business suit of yours and take you on your desk at work? Does a good man want to say dirty things in your ear while he’s buried balls deep in that delicious pussy of yours, y/n?” he growled in my ear.  
I swallowed hard, my breath catching in my throat. I hated that I could do nothing about the lust that those words created within me. I made a mental note to rip his clothes off and have my way with him the next time I got the chance.  
“You’re still a good man, but with a few naughty thoughts,” I breathed out, “You just can’t exercise them tonight. Give me a few days.”  
“I understand,” he whispered back.  
“So what do you want tonight?” I asked, looking up at him. He stroked my cheek and gave me a slight smile.   
“To hold you,” he answered, “Kiss you if you let me.”  
“You want to kiss me?” I asked him. I guess I needed to hear him say it.  
“I have always wanted to kiss you. You’re so damn beautiful – and sexy when you’re not even tryin’,” he said as he caressed my right cheek.  
He led me to my bedroom, his fingers interlaced with mine. I pulled back the covers and got in bed. He joined me, pulling me into his arms so that my head rested on his pillow covered metal shoulder. I looked up at him, feeling more nervous now than ever before.  
Bucky nuzzled my cheek. He pressed a kiss to my forehead and I melted into his arms.   
“I do love you, y/n,” he whispered.  
“I love you,” I admitted.  
Time stopped the moment his lips met mine. I expected passion. I expected hunger. I expected fierceness. What I got was tenderness. Bucky took his time, his lips tenderly capturing my top lip, savoring it, then moved on to my bottom lip. His tongue only tentatively swept inside my mouth to explore. He wasn’t aggressive. Instead, he was so gentle that I thought I’d faint. My lips and tongue slowly danced with his as we settled into a rhythm with one another. He moved from my mouth, down to my neck and back again. His lips kissed every inch of my exposed skin, always returning to my mouth to claim it over and over again.   
Exhaustion finally took over the both of us. I began to fall asleep with his arms wrapped around me and his lips pressed to my forehead. I snuggled close to him, though it didn’t seem like he’d loosen his hold anytime soon.  
“It feels like you’re not gonna let me go,” I whispered.  
Bucky placed a kiss to my temple.  
“No, y/n,” he said, “I’m never letting you go.”


End file.
